The Lonely Vampire’s Lament

In the shadows, I await

The creaking of the garden gate,

With my tendency to hallucinate

In my isolophilia.

The scalding sunlight makes me sick,

Bubbles my skin like vinyl mosaic,

But my passionless life will be over quick

In my isolophilia.

And then, in the gateway, there you are,

Another victim to my opia,

A carcass to fulfil my hunger

In my isophilia.


© Kim M. Russell, 2016

Wordle 103